


wild horses

by blkvelvets



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blkvelvets/pseuds/blkvelvets
Summary: in which wendy and irene win the lottery and their lives turn upside down.or, irene's rich, wendy's clueless, joy's bitter, and seulgi's the most powerful woman in hollywood.





	1. prologue

“and then seulgi was like-“

“wan, shh. i’m trying to listen!”

“you never listen to my dreams, irene-“

“wendy! you have to let me listen, otherwise-“

“yeah, yeah, irene, i know. you and your lottery obsession. face it, we aren’t gonna win anything,” wendy sighs, taking a drag from the glowing joint in her hand and blowing the smoke into the stale room. 

“how many times do i have to tell you not to smoke in here?” irene frowns, waving the smoke out of her face as wendy coughs. “hey, is the last number on the tv a six or a nine?”

“a six,” wendy says, leaning a little closer to their ancient tv and squinting to try and make out the last number. “yeah, definitely a six.”

“three,” irene reads off of their lottery ticket, prompting wendy to keep reading the numbers off the tv from the beginning.

“three,” wendy confirms.

“seven.”

“seven.”

“nine.”

“nine.”

“one.”

“one.”

“two.”

“two.”

“six?”

“six.”

“wendy son, i am holding the ticket to 1.6 billion dollars,” irene breaths and wendy thinks that her best friend must be joking, must be, because that number is higher than anything wendy has ever had in her entire life. 

“no way,” wendy says, shaking her head in disbelief. irene must be reading a number wrong. or there’s probably something wrong with her eyes – lord knows they can’t afford a proper doctor. 

“i’m so sure, wannie,” irene’s eyes are wide and her hands are shaking, barely able to keep the lottery ticket secure in her hand. “this is it, isn’t it? isn’t this the big miracle we’ve been waiting for? come on, wendy, think about it. you can sing, i can sing, and now we can finally afford to chase our dreams,” irene grins, words growing stronger and more passionate as she speaks despite the pained look on her best friend’s face.

“you sound absolutely ridiculous,” wendy grimaces as more smoke enters her lungs.

“don’t you want to leave? there’s nothing here for us, wen, you know that-“

“i like it here. besides, joy already left. it wouldn’t be right if we left too.”

six months prior, they had another roommate - joy park, dear friend to the both of them. that was, until something went down and joy and irene suddenly started acting like the other didn’t exist. wendy didn’t know the details and, frankly, wasn’t too keen on finding out. as far as she was concerned, joy had abandoned them with the burden of her share of rent and the utility bill.

“wen, we could go anywhere in the world. literally anywhere. tokyo, new york, rome, korea, you name it, we’ll be there by tomorrow,” irene pleaded with her best friend, trying to get her to open her eyes and stop being so damn stubborn.

there’s a silence and irene almost thinks that she can hear the roaches crawling across their floors.

“los angeles,” wendy simply responds, placing what’s left of her joint in the nearby ashtray.

“what?”

“you said we can be anywhere by tomorrow. and i want to go to los angeles.”

“i was hoping you would say paris,” irene frowns, picking up her phone to check flight availability.  “but los angeles will have to do.”

“wait,” wendy says, reaching out to cover irene’s hand (and phone screen, irene notes bitterly) with her own. “what about the apartment? and where are we going to live? we can’t be so impulsive, irene.”

“yes we can,” irene laughs, full of pure joy and happiness and even wendy can admit that she hasn’t seen her best friend like this in the longest time, not since joy left and the bills started stacking up. “we can do anything, wen. we won the fucking lottery!”

“but the rent,” wendy frowns, ever the worrier. “we can’t just up and leave-“

“we have enough money to take care of the rent until we can sell the place. not that anyone would want it anyway,” irene rolls her eyes and pulls wendy off of the couch, throwing her arms around her and wrapping her in a tight embrace. “we can stay at a hotel until we can find a place to live. a nice hotel, too – the kind you’ve always wanted, with the silk sheets and a jacuzzi in our room and room service every single night, okay? we got this. you and me until the end, right?”

“you and me until the end,” wendy breathes, burying her head in irene’s warm sweater as reality seeps in. this might be it, her big break, the one she’s dreamt of ever since she was a little girl.

irene exclaims in glee, drawing back from their embrace and tapping something on her phone. “two one-way tickets for a flight to LAX. first class, leaves at 9:15 tomorrow morning.”

“i’ll start packing my bags,” wendy smiles, leaning in to press a soft goodnight kiss to irene’s cheek. “you probably should too.”

“right,” irene says, a strange expression that wendy can’t quite decipher on her face. irene’s always been hard to read – you would think that knowing her for more than fifteen years would make it easier, but wendy’s never mastered the art of reading irene bae. “okay. goodnight, love.”

wendy skips to her own bedroom to pack her things, humming an unfamiliar show tune as she goes. irene sinks down into their old, junky couch, mindlessly rubbing the spot on her face where wendy had kissed her.

“oh, god,” she mumbles to herself. “what am i getting myself into?”

//

“oh my god, irene, it is way too early for this ,” wendy complains as she mindlessly drums her fingers on the arm rest separating the two girls. “what is taking so long?”

“plane stuff,” irene shrugs her shoulders, flipping through the tabloid magazine she had bought at the airport, not really looking at the pages.

“plane stuff? seriously?” wendy groans and sinks down in her seat. “this is why i don’t fly anywhere.”

“we don’t fly anywhere because, before yesterday, we were broke as fuck,” irene reminds her, turning to a random page in the magazine. “but now- oh wannie, look, it’s your girlfriend.”

that certainly catches wendy’s attention, the younger girl immediately straightening up to lean over the armrest to catch a glimpse at the magazine in irene’s hands. “seulgi?” she inquires, brown eyes lighting up at the sight of the celebrity. 

“pop star seulgi kang seen at l.a. nightclub with friends after breakup,” irene reads out loud, tilting the magazine so wendy would be able to see the pictures snapped by invasive paparazzi displayed on the page. “who’s yeri?” she asks, glancing at a picture of a smaller girl dancing by seulgi’s side.

“oh, that’s just her best friend,” wendy says dismissively, focusing all of her attention on the biggest picture on the page. it displayed seulgi walking towards the club with yeri, mid-laugh, the two girls linking arms as they moved. 

seulgi’s smile was probably one of the most beautiful smiles wendy had ever seen – next to irene’s, of course. truth be told, wendy almost wishes that she could have been born as yeri kim, just so she could be there and see and hear seulgi in person – it would be a dream come true. quite literally – she has dreams about the dashing celebrity pretty much every night. (irene’s forced to sit through every single recounting of every single dream. wendy would feel bad, but who else would she tell?)

her huge crush on seulgi kang’s definitely no secret to anyone in her life. one day she had the tv to a news segment about her charity work, and from then on, she was completely smitten. she downloads every interview to her sluggish laptop, she buys every magazine cover, she’s instantly notified whenever seulgi tweets or posts something to her instagram, and wendy’s always the first to like any updates. (the only thing seulgi’s face hasn’t graced is the screensaver on wendy’s phone– that’s been a picture of her and irene for as long as she can remember, the older woman’s arms wrapped around her waist as they posed in the middle of the local park.) it’s just a dream though, just one of wendy’s favorite fantasies. wendy has always been just some stoner slumming it with her best friend, and seulgi has always been a huge international star, living the dream in california. complete opposites.

but, maybe, just maybe, this move could bring the famous seulgi kang into her life. wendy knows better than to be hopelessly optimistic– she’s always been the glass half empty girl to irene’s glass half full– but the prospect of moving to the same city that seulgi resides in has her absolutely giddy. los angeles is a huge place, though, she reminds herself sadly. there’s a huge chance she’ll never see seulgi, even if they do live in the same star-studded city. 

that can’t stop her from hoping, though.

//

wendy looks like a painting when she’s sleeping.

irene can’t stop herself from gazing at her throughout the plane ride; her best friend had fallen asleep almost as soon as the place lifted off of the tarmac. she can’t say she’s surprised – wendy’s always worked herself too hard, always trying to find some way to prove herself. she deserves a break, irene thinks.

things have been tough lately. after joy left, irene had picked up a few extra shifts at the restaurant and wendy had gotten a third job. it was hard, sure, but it was managable. until irene was driving back from a graveyard shift on two hours of sleep and crashed their only car. 

things spiraled out of control after that, and suddenly, everything felt impossible. their only source of transportation was gone, and then they had to worry about irene’s hospital bills and the fact that wendy would be the only one working until irene had fully recovered. tensions had been rising and arguments would erupt over the littlest things. honestly, irene wasn’t sure if their friendship would survive. 

(she had prayed and prayed for a miracle, for anything, as long as it kept wendy by her side. it looks like irene’s miracle has finally arrived.) 

wendy is so beautiful, so smart, and yet so oblivious. she hasn’t noticed the way irene looks at her when it’s just them, cuddled up together in their small apartment. she hasn’t noticed the lingering touches and the longing stares and the way irene looks at her like she’s the sun. she hasn’t noticed the way the tension between irene and joy had exploded in the days leading up to joy’s departure. so, so, so aloof. 

typical wendy.

“wake up,” irene whispers, her breath just barely grazing the other girl’s cheek.

wendy stirs in her chair, slowly opening her eyes. “are we almost there?” she yawns, blinking a few times to get adjusted to the dark environment.

“not for another hour, wan,” irene says, lowering her volume so that only wendy could hear, not wanting to disturb the sleeping passengers around them. “it’s just…”

“what is it?” wendy asks, more awake now after hearing the urgency in irene’s voice, concern dancing in her eyes as she leans closer to her best friend.

“i’m nervous,” irene admits, taking wendy’s hand and interlacing their fingers together. “we’re going so far away from home.. we have no one out here. what if we completely crash and burn?”

“i’m nervous too,” wendy sighs, using her free hand to push up the armrest separating the two girls. “but we’ll be okay. we have each other, remember? you and me until the end, irene. always.”

“right,” irene exhales. “you and me until the end.”

“we’ll be fine,” wendy says, squeezing irene’s hand in an effort to reassure her. “can i go back to sleep now?”

irene laughs at that – sleep has always been the first thing on wendy’s mind, even when they were teenagers. “i’ll wake you up when we land.”

wendy doesn’t hear her; she’s already asleep, irene’s hand still intertwined with hers and irene’s thumb mindlessly tracing soft circles on the back of wendy’s hand.

wendy isn’t just a painting, irene thinks. she is a masterpiece.


	2. chapter one

“finally,” wendy groans, throwing her hastily-packed bags somewhere into the corner before collapsing into the bed of their five star hotel. “i’m so exhausted.”

“you’re exhausted?” irene half-teases, picking up wendy’s discarded bags and moving them further into the room. “you slept through the whole plane ride _and_ the car ride.”

“shhh,” wendy sighs into a pillow, turning on her side and opening her arms in an effort to get irene to come closer. “come here, irene. let’s sleep.”

“it’s eleven in the morning–“

“irene,” wendy whines, irene stifling her giggles as her best friend pouts from the bed. “i wanna hold you. come here.”

irene blushes and turns away, instead choosing to busy herself with the unopened champagne bottle that had come with the hotel room– she’s no expert in this kind of stuff, more used to cheap beer from the corner store– but she can tell that the bottle’s expensive, probably worth more than her and wendy combined.

then again, irene is a newly minted billionaire (it hasn’t quite sunk in yet, the full reality of the situation not quite striking her yet) and it’s starting to make her feel a little nauseous, going from instant noodles and watching trashy reality tv shows on the television joy stole from the junkyard to holding a thousand dollar champagne bottle between her hands in less than 24 hours. 

at the very least, the pop of the champagne bottle fully awakens wendy, the younger girl sitting up excitedly on the bed at the sound– irene would laugh, but she’s too busy pouring the champagne out with shaky hands, making sure that no drop is wasted.

she may be a billionaire, but she sure doesn’t feel like one yet.

“champagne?” she offers wendy a glass, not able to contain the cheeky grin that spreads across her face after seeing wendy’s eyes light up. 

“how could i ever say no to that?” wendy smiles warmly, taking the glass from irene, still never standing up from her spot on the bed.

irene’s only able to get one step out towards the window before she’s pulled down onto the bed by two strong arms, barely being able to keep a grip on her champagne glass.

“wendy!” irene gasps, champagne nearly spilling out of the glass and onto the pristine white sheets. “why would you–“

“sorry, sorry!” wendy laughs, wrapping an arm around the older girl’s waist in an effort to steady her as she raises her glass up. “hey, look at me,” her tone softens, tilting up irene’s chin so that their eyes meet, missing the way that irene’s eyes light up with affection. “i know i’ve been kind of dismissive of this whole thing, especially yesterday. but seriously, irene, this means so much to me. more than you know, i think.”

“you and me until the end,” irene simply says, reaching out her hand to gently brush against wendy’s cheek with her thumb. “always.”

wendy smiles and leans into the touch, champagne glasses momentarily forgotten. “i love you.”

“love you more, wannie,” irene says, the affectionate nickname slipping out involuntarily. (wendy has never liked her korean name, insisting on the english names written on their american birth certificates. wendy says that it’s because seungwan reminds her of a place that she has never known, but irene would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way seungwan feels on her tongue.) 

it’s hard to resist the urge to lean just a little closer and close the gap between their lips, but that’s dangerous– being this close to wendy has always been dangerous. so irene drops her hand from her best friend’s face, scoots back just enough for the air to stop smelling so intoxicatingly like wendy, and clears her throat. 

“to fame and fortune,” she says, lifting her glass into the air and clinking it against wendy’s.

“to fame and fortune,” wendy smiles, then, as an afterthought, adds, “and to seulgi kang.”

//

irene wakes up from their mid-day nap first, yawning and stretching her arms out as she slowly gets adjusted to the new atmosphere. wendy’s still sleeping, mouth open and slightly drooling onto her pillow– and, somehow, she’s still the most beautiful sight in irene’s life.

which is, really, a bad sign. she’s positive that she should not be this weak for her gross-looking, sleeping best friend. but she finds herself smiling and leaning down to plant a soft kiss on wendy’s forehead anyway, blessing the gods for making wendy such a deep sleeper. 

it’s not like they aren’t more affectionate than this when both of them are awake, but for some reason, this feels deeper. more intimate. irene likes it like this. this is the side of wendy only she gets to see– and maybe it’s slightly overly possessive of her, but she’d like to keep it that way. 

she only wakes wendy up after she’s showered and changed out of her travel clothes, crouching down by the side of the bed and gently shaking her best friend awake. “hey,” she whispers, careful not to be too loud. “i’m going to go pick up some lunch. want anything?”

wendy’s eyes flutter open, sleep still present in her bright eyes as she turns to face irene. “no.. i’m good,” she yawns. “what time is it?”

“almost three,” irene responds, brushing a lock of wendy’s hair away from her eyes. “i’m going to take a taxi downtown.”

“okay,” wendy murmurs softly, still half-asleep. irene smiles and stands up (despite her sudden longing to forget about lunch and climb back into bed with wendy), turning to make her way out of the room. “wait,” wendy says suddenly, darting a hand out to gently grab irene’s wrist.

“yes?”

“i’ll go,” she says, pushing herself into an upright positioning and yawning again. “you need more sleep.”

“it’s fine, wendy, really–“ irene chuckles, only to be pulled back into bed– when did wendy get so strong?

“nope, i’m going,” wendy’s made up her mind, rolling (literally) out of bed and grabbing a change of clothes before dashing into the bathroom, leaving a stunned irene lying in the bed behind her. but irene’s never been the kind who says no to extra hours of sleep, so eventually she relaxes into the bed, wrapping the warm comforter around her body. 

wendy eventually emerges from the bathroom, tucking in irene despite the older girl’s protests and grabbing her bag. “don’t sleep too long, okay?”

“okay,” irene grumbles into the pillow, turning slightly so that she can just barely make out the top of wendy’s head. “i could have gone by myself, you know, you could have slept in a little longer…”

“don’t worry about me,” wendy smiles and pats the crown of irene’s head affectionately before standing up. “i’ve slept enough.”

irene watches wendy closely as she prepares to leave, shouting a quick “be careful!” as wendy steps out of the room, not missing wendy’s little smile before the door closes completely. 

//

“just a medium black tea,” wendy smiles at the barista behind the corner of the cute little coffee spot she had found in downtown los angeles. the place was quiet enough despite the many customers bustling in and out of the glass doors, tiny plants decorating the small space and a few tables scattered around the perimeter of the room. (she makes a little note at the back of her mind to bring irene here– she already knows the older woman would love it.)

grabbing her tea, she plops down at the nearest available table, most of the other ones already taken by college students typing away on their laptops or couples canoodling over warm cups of coffee. taking a sip of the hot tea, she sighed, at ease in the warm atmosphere. she could almost feel the caffeine pumping through her bloodstream– now she could really start the day, despite it already being four in the afternoon.

taking another sip of the tea, she pulled her phone out of her bag, scrolling through the notifications displayed over her lockscreen. _one missed call from mama._

“damn it,” wendy murmurs under her breath, her phone dying almost as soon as she catches a glimpse of the notification. fishing her phone charger out of her bag, she plugs it into one of the outlets by the table, mentally chastising herself for not charging her phone while she was sleeping. (usually irene remembers to do this stuff for her, but irene had fallen asleep almost immediately with wendy pressed up against her– and that’s besides the point, wendy’s an adult, she needs to be capable of taking care of herself without irene doing it for her.)

she lets herself relax and blend in with the bustling environment around her, still keeping an eye on her phone as it charges. the soft music from the coffee shop speakers fill the air around her, providing the soundtrack for her people-watching. she’s never had this much free time in her life, she thinks as she watches the people walk by. there’s a businessman chatting away on his phone, a distressed look on his face as he brushes through throngs of people on the sidewalk. a group of teenagers, some holding fries from a nearby fast food restaurant and others holding smartphones. a young woman pushing a stroller. a man walking his small brown puppy. and a–

“excuse me, is this seat taken?” an incredibly sweet and strangely familiar voice asks, interrupting wendy’s peaceful internal train of thought.

“uh, no, you can sit–“ wendy stops herself mid-sentence when she glances up at the person addressing her. long dark hair, a warm smile on her face, gorgeous brown eyes, and those _ears_ –

seulgi kang in all her glory.

“thanks!” the celebrity sits down, smile never leaving her face, seemingly not noticing the stunned expression on wendy’s face. “i really needed to charge my phone.”

“oh, uh…” wendy trails off, mouth dry, suddenly forgetting how to speak english– if irene was here, she’d be dying laughing on the floor by now. “same,” she finally forces a word out, mentally kicking herself. this is the moment she’s been waiting for her whole life (not really, that’s an exaggeration, but it damn sure feels like her entire life has been spent waiting for this moment), and now she finds herself tripping over her words and not being able to string a single sentence together.

“are you okay?” seulgi asks, cocking her head and studying wendy carefully– wendy nearly squirms under the intense gaze, needing to remind herself exactly how to breathe.

“y-yeah, i think so,” wendy stutters, hand moving to her wrist to quickly (and covertly) check her pulse. yep, she’s definitely alive. she isn’t dead, this isn’t heaven, she is alive and seulgi kang is right in front of her. “i’m wendy,” she smiles in (what she hopes is) a non-creepy manner, snapping out of the strange trance seulgi put her in and switching to a way more cool and upbeat wendy son, the one who is (technically) a billionaire and definitely does not have a framed collection of seulgi posters in her bedroom back home. 

“seulgi,” she says cheerfully, sticking her hand out and shaking wendy’s slightly trembling hand– her cool girl schtick isn’t quite working out.

“oh, i know you,” wendy says, immediately regretting it. “oh, no, wait. that sounded creepy. i just meant, like, i’m familiar. with who you are?” she rambles, feeling the blush on her cheeks grow the more she speaks. _there goes your one chance at befriending seulgi_ , she scolds herself, wanting nothing more than to run out of the cafe as fast as possible, phone charging be damned. _now you’ve really ruined it._

to her surprise, seulgi just laughs, amusement clear on her face like this happens everyday– it probably does, given the fact that seulgi’s at the height of her fame right now, and wendy suddenly feels very insignificant. but that doesn’t really matter, not when seulgi’s beaming at her like she’s a long lost friend. “well, you know me,” seulgi muses, leaning forward to rest her chin on her propped up fists. “how come i don’t know you?

“i’m afraid there isn’t much to know,” wendy offers, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth– it’s impossible to resist the urge to smile, not when seulgi kang herself is looking at you like you’re the most interesting part of her day by far.

“i don’t believe you,” seulgi remarks, gaze never leaving wendy’s. “there’s always things to know, things to learn. especially from pretty girls like you.’

“o-oh,” wendy swallows, feeling impossibly warm all over. too much is happening at once, and everything’s beginning to hit her in this little coffee shop. she had won the lottery (not really, irene was the one who won the lottery, but what irene has is hers, and what wendy has is irene’s. it’s practically in the laws of the universe), moved to los angeles, met the celebrity crush she had been infatuated with for far too long in some random coffee shop, and now said crush is _flirting_ with her?

maybe she was wrong earlier, maybe wendy actually is dead, because there’s no way this can be happening, not to her. either irene slipped her some weird drugs in the champagne, or she died in the plane crash over, or maybe this whole thing is one big dream, because wendy refuses to believe that this is happening. it’s all far too much to handle.

“well, i just moved here,” wendy manages to say, taking a big gulp of her tea in a last-ditch effort to calm her nerves. “literally less than twenty four hours ago.”

seulgi’s eyebrows shoot up at that, an impressed look on her cute features. “really? well, if you need someone to show you around, introduce you to the better parts of the city, i’m your girl,” she proposes– wendy isn’t quite sure if she’s imagining the slight purr that accompanies her words.

“i would really like that,” wendy smiles, letting herself relax as she takes in the girl in front of her as reality sinks in– this is really seulgi, this is really happening, holy shit she can’t _wait_ to tell irene. she nearly finds herself getting lost in seulgi’s eyes; until her phone buzzes on the table, startling her (and seulgi) out of their little stupor. “it’s my mom,” she sighs, unlocking her phone to text a quick apology for missing her earlier call. “i should probably go and call her.”

“before you do that,” seulgi says, picking her own phone up from where she was charging it next to wendy’s. “can i get your number?”

“of course,” wendy beams, writing it down on the nearest napkin and sliding it over to seulgi’s side of the table, hoping her excitement wasn’t as embarrassingly apparent as it seemed in her head. 

“thanks,” seulgi grins. “i’ll see you later.”

she winks at wendy before she leaves and wendy nearly faints.

//

“and that’s what really happened?” irene sighs, running a hand through her sleep-tousled hair.

“i’m not lying, irene,” wendy rolls her eyes, smile faltering as she realizes just how little irene believes her– is it really so impossible for irene to believe that seulgi kang asked her for her phone number? 

(really, wendy knows that she’s not all that– especially not compared to seulgi. but would it hurt irene so much to at least pretend to be excited for her?)

“i didn’t say you were,” irene protests, pacing around their hotel room once more. she’s been doing that since wendy got home– it’s actually really annoying. “i just…”

“you just what?”

“i just don’t want to see you get hurt,” irene sighs, expression softening as she draws closer to where wendy’s been standing and reaches out to grasp her best friend’s hand. “i mean, she just got out of a relationship, we just got here, i don’t want her to just drag you down into that celebrity lifestyle so fast.”

“no one said anything about relationships, irene,” wendy can’t help but smile, squeezing irene’s hand in hers. “but i hear you. and i agree, i guess. just be happy for me? please?”

wendy can see the hesitation in irene’s eyes, but it’s gone almost as soon as it appeared, irene wrapping her arms around the younger woman and bringing her into a tight embrace. 

“okay,” she murmurs, bringing one hand up to stroke wendy’s back reassuringly– this amount of affection has never felt out of place in their friendship, not even when wendy’s gushing about the girl of her dreams. “i can do that.”

wendy’s phone chimes, the younger woman pulling back from irene’s touch only to find a message awaiting her from none else than the subject of their conversation herself.

_seulgi!: free tonight? i know a place we could go_

“is that her?” irene asks, ever the nosy one, trying her best to sneak a peek at wendy’s phone.

“yup,” wendy mutters, typing faster than irene’s ever seen her type in her life and sliding her phone back into her pocket in nearly one smooth motion, much to irene’s display– she didn’t get her chance to snoop.

“what did she want?”

“she asked me if i wanted to go somewhere with her. i don’t know where.”

“and…?

“and i said no.”

_wendy from the coffeeshop: sorry, i was going to go explore w my best friend tonight. rain check?_

_seulgi!: of course :)_

“oh, okay,” irene breathes, a smile gracing her face once again. “i was thinking we could try out this restaurant in pasadena tonight. i can make a reservation, if you want.”

“sounds good,” wendy smiles– it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. truth be told, she wants nothing more than to go out with seulgi, but, as much as she hates to admit it, irene has a point. seulgi is a far cry from everything wendy’s ever known, all celebrity lifestyle and red carpet and award shows. (and what could wendy ever be, in comparison to that? just some lonely fangirl.) still, that doesn’t stop something from tugging at her, something that won’t stop telling her how incredibly dumb she is for passing over an opportunity to spend time with her longtime celebrity crush.

“i really think it would be good for you to get over your silly crush soon, though,” irene says off-handedly, rummaging through the dresser to find an outfit for their dinner, not catching the look of hurt that flashes momentarily across wendy’s face.

“what is that supposed to mean?” wendy frowns, shifting as she crosses her arms defensively. not this again.

“you know what i mean,” irene sighs, closing the drawer harder than necessary and turning around, leaning back on the dresser.

“no, i actually don’t.”

“okay, silly was the wrong word,” irene backtracks, hoping to undo the damage she’s already unknowingly caused– she can already see the hurt in wendy’s eyes. “i just meant, i don’t know, unrealistic?”

“great, unrealistic, even better,” wendy scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “why do you care so much anyways? seulgi has nothing to do with you.”

“i care about _you_ , wendy!” irene takes a step forward, pleading with the woman she loves so much; she doesn’t fail to notice how wendy averts her eyes, fixing them at some imaginary point behind her. “look at me, wannie, please–“

“if you cared about me, you would realize that this is what i want, irene,” wendy argues, still not meeting irene’s eyes. “this is what i need. why are you so against this? do you think i’m not good enough for her? the little girl from the middle of nowhere can’t possibly have a chance with the big time hollywood star, right?”

“i-i’m not against it,” irene weakly protests, sad brown eyes desperately searching for their other half. god, all this just because she couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut.

“please,” wendy rolls her eyes. “obviously you are. you just can’t stop talking about my oh-so-silly, childish, unrealistic crush, can you, irene?”

irene trips over her words and settles on a quiet “no, that’s not true”– that doesn’t stop wendy from grabbing her phone and bag and striding across the room.

“where are you going?” irene splutters, watching her best friend in disbelief. 

“out,” wendy scoffs, slamming the door behind her.

_wendy from the coffeeshop: change of plans. where do you want me to meet you?_

//

the club is loud and crowded and definitely not wendy’s thing. but seulgi’s sitting next to her at the vip bar, and suddenly she finds herself liking clubs more and more.

seulgi’s telling her some story about an asshole she encountered the other day, wendy nodding along enthusiastically when the story prompts her to– truth be told, and as much as it pains her to admit it, she’s doing a bad job being an active listener. 

she’s nursing her sixth drink of the night, having ditched seulgi’s recommended cocktails for something harder, something that reminds her more of the bottles of liquor joy would sneak from her bartending jobs back home. seulgi places a hand on wendy’s knee and leans in, murmuring something that wendy can’t even pretend to hear over the music blaring from the dance floor.

“what’d you say?” wendy raises her voice, trying her best not to be that one girl in the club who’s constantly screaming over the music. “sorry, it’s just really loud in here!”

“come dance with me!” seulgi repeats herself, holding her hand out to help wendy up from her seat. wendy’s eyes widen and she downs her drink before graciously (or, as gracious as you can be when you’ve drunken more in one night than you have all month) taking seulgi’s hand, letting the older girl guide her out onto the dance floor.

she’s still giddy at the prospect of being able to touch seulgi like this, the celebrity wrapping her arms around wendy’s waist like it’s nothing, like they’ve known each other for years. they sway to the beat of the music together as frantic bodies whizz around them, twirling and grinding and dancing around the pair. 

it’s a little overwhelming, she’s not gonna lie. and all the drinks aren’t helping– but how else is wendy supposed to forget the look in irene’s eyes when she stormed out? 

but now, all wendy can feel is the music and seulgi and the heat from the bodies around them, the beat of the song syncing up with her heartbeat, every _boom_ matching up with the pounding in her chest. 

this is magic, she thinks, seulgi pulling her impossibly closer as a throng of drunk boys push their way through the dance floor– she looks up and seulgi’s smiling down at her, _seulgi kang_ , who, as wendy has learned throughout the night, is less of the charismatic celebrity she’s portrayed as in the media and more of an adorable klutz, the kind who’s nearly spilled her drink three times in the span of a couple of hours. 

“you’re so pretty,” seulgi says, sounding so genuinely in awe, and wendy melts, resting her head on seulgi’s shoulder as they dance. 

she doesn’t think she’s ever felt more alive in her life, not when she’s in the vip section of some expensive and exclusive club, dancing with her celebrity crush. the bass is pounding through her veins and maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, but for a moment, it feels like everything she needs is right there in her arms.

and then she remembers irene.

“i should go,” wendy yells in order to be heard over the loud music pouring from the speakers. what was she thinking, leaving her best friend in order to go and get drunk with someone she had just barely met? (then again, seulgi’s probably the best person she’s ever gotten drunk with. irene’s an emotional drunk– give her a bottle of wine and soon enough she’ll be crying in your arms about some girl who dumped her in middle school. and joy’s an angry drunk– wendy’s had to pick that girl up from the police station so many times after nights full of heavy drinking. but seulgi? seulgi’s a happy drunk, the kind who captivates you every time your eyes meet, the kind where you feel like you’re drowning in the sheer happiness that they exude.)

“what? no!” seulgi protests, giving wendy her best puppy dog eyes, and god, wendy is so tempted to stay. “stay just a little while longer, wendy, we haven’t been out that long.”

wendy would be lying if she said that she didn’t want to melt into seulgi’s eyes and stay until her legs collapse from sheer fatigue, but irene is at the hotel and irene is lonely and what was wendy thinking, leaving her there all by herself? 

“no, i really think i should go,” wendy apologizes, letting seulgi bring her into a close hug– is it weird to say that seulgi smells good? like really good, like _crazy_ good, and wendy’s so sure that this is a clear sign as any that it’s time to let go. “but i had a really fun time tonight.”

“me too,” seulgi beams, the first to pull away from the hug, but leans back in a moment later to kiss wendy on the cheek. “i’ll call you a cab.”

//

a knock at the door startles irene out of the tv-induced slump she’s been in for the last few hours, the woman not having moved from her spot on the bed since wendy stormed out. it must be the room service she had ordered, she reasons– although she’s in no mood to eat after their argument.

“coming!” she yells, turning down the volume of the tv and reluctantly getting out of bed to get the door, only be greeted with her smiling best friend, holding a plate of the steak irene had ordered in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

“hey…” wendy says tentatively, trying to keep a smile on her face while simultaneously trying to decipher the conflicted look present on irene’s face.

“welcome back,” irene scowls, turning around and retreating back into their room, fully intent on burying back into the bed and making wendy sleep on the couch. 

“i, uh, spared the delivery boy from your wrath,” wendy chuckles weakly, following irene in and gently placing the plate on a nearby table. “and i picked up the best cheesecake in the city on the way back,” she grins, holding up the brown paper bag and shaking it gently.

“really?” irene lights up, momentarily forgetting to be angry. of course wendy would go the extra mile to attempt to bridge the gap between them– it’s just so typical of her.

irene almost can’t remember why she’s so mad. how could she ever be, with wendy looking at her like this?

“i know it’s your favorite,” wendy finally relaxes upon seeing her best friend’s reaction– a good sign that maybe she could resolve this whole problem and everything would go back to being fine. “listen, irene, you were right. _kind of_ right,” she corrects herself before irene’s ego gets too big.

“go on.”

“we’ve gone through a lot of crazy stuff these past couple of days,” wendy continues, watching irene’s face for any sign of forgiveness. “and i’m pretty sure we’re gonna keep riding this… crazy rollercoaster life is throwing at us. but the money, seulgi, this fancy ass hotel– none of this matters if i don’t have you, irene. i need you. i can’t do this without you by my side.”

“nice speech,” irene mumbles, poking at her steak, wondering if she’s doing a good job concealing how fast her heart is racing at wendy’s words.

_none of this matters if i don’t have you._

_i need you._

_i can’t do this without you by my side._

god, irene is so in love.

“i’m serious, irene.”

irene sighs and plops back down onto the bed, steak left forgotten on the desk. “come here, wendy,” she pats the space next to her, hiding her smile that comes naturally as wendy stumbles towards her– just how much did that girl drink?

“i fucked up, okay?” irene admits, making sure that wendy’s properly seated next to her before continuing. “i just want what’s best for you, you know? and i guess i just got a little too mixed up in that.”

“me too,” wendy smiles, resting her head on irene’s shoulder and closing her eyes. their hotel room is a stark cry from the club she had been in only half an hour before, but wendy likes it a little better here, where the only thing she can hear is the mumbling of the television somewhere in the background. “you and me until the end, irene.”

“always. so how was it?”

wendy beams and launches into a detailed explanation of her night with international superstar seulgi kang, leaving their previous argument behind them. wendy looks so happy and irene feels so incredibly guilty for not wanting to hear a single thing about her outing with seulgi– she doesn’t want to hear about how they had danced for hours, she doesn’t want to hear about how seulgi had looked at wendy like she was the only girl in the room, she didn’t want to hear about their jokes and the conversations and the suggestive comments. 

but she has to be a good friend, a supportive friend– as supportive as it’s possible to be when you’re in love with your best friend, anyways– so she pushes away her feelings to plater on a smile.

irene thinks she’s getting too good at that lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally made a twitter: @wlwchaeyoung, come check me out :)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @soomiii


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